


And the Moral of our Story

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...is that you shouldn't annoy Jason Todd. He gets even real quick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Moral of our Story

“Age: the length of time during which a being or thing has existed; _length_ _of_ _life_ or existence to the time spoken of or referred to.” Tim brandished his phone above his head. “See? I don’t know what else to tell you.”  
“You’re an asshole.”  
“And you’re eighteen. I’m sorry, but the dictionary has spoken.” He rolled his eyes as Jason snatched the phone out of his hand. “Give it back.”  
“No.”  
“Don’t make me come over there.” Tim was sitting on the floor, and there were case files lying across his legs, and he really didn’t want to get up… or let Jason see the bottom half of his phone screen. Probably too late.  
“Definition two,” Jason read, “a period of human life, measured by years from birth— _years_ _from_ _birth,_ _Tim_ — usually marked by a certain stage or degree of development.” He grinned in triumph as he tossed back Tim’s phone, narrowly missing Damian’s head; Damian was curled on the couch with his sketchbook, pointedly ignoring them both. “I’m nineteen.”  
“My definition was first.”  
“They’re both in the dictionary. Age is a measurement of the time that has elapsed since a person’s _birth_ , as literally anyone would tell you.”  
“And right before that, they would tell me that age is a measurement of the time a person has been _alive_ , because those two should be the same number. It’s not my fault you don’t abide by the normal laws of the universe.”  
“I’m getting tired of this argument.”  
“And I’m getting tired of putting quotation marks around the word ‘dead,’ but here we both are. And you’re still eighteen.” They’d been arguing about this for months, on and off, but neither one of them would budge. Tim knew he was right— Jason hadn’t aged when he was dead, had he? That year didn’t count. Really, all of this should be obvious.  
Jason leaned against the couch. “So we ask someone else.”  
“No.”  
“Damian. Back me up.”  
“Okay clearly Damian is going to take your side. He’s biased. Anyway, he won’t respond.”  
Damian pulled his headphones out of his ears, and for a few seconds, Tim thought he might have been wrong— until Damian fished a pair of larger, noise-canceling headphones from his bag and stuck them over his head. Never mind. He set his sketchbook on the coffee table and turned to leave, stopping off at Tim’s workspace.  
“Can I borrow that for a minute?” he asked, pointing to Tim’s laptop.  
“I guess.” Tim handed it over. “Why do you need my—”  
Damian set the laptop on the bookshelf by the door and left.  
“…Okay seriously?” Tim looked down at his case files, carefully arranged around him, then up at his laptop, clear across the room. “Seriously? I’m gonna kill him.”  
“I got it.” Jason looked like he was trying not to laugh, but he followed Damian out the door— there were a few seconds of silence, then muffled crashing from down the hall. When Jason came back, he was smiling in a way that made Tim nervous.  
“Do I want to know?”  
“I shoved him in a closet.”  
“Wow.”  
“And locked him in.”  
“So you’re just gonna leave him there?”  
“Oh come on.” Jason pulled Damian’s sketchpad off the table. “He can break himself out of a closet. Pretty quickly, I imagine. Hey look— it’s us.” He held up the pad— it really was Tim and Jason, arguing exaggeratedly with their arms in the air. Tim didn’t know whether to be touched or annoyed. Or scared of the small, angry footsteps coming down the hall.  
“Yeah, anyway,” said Jason, pulling the latch open on the window. “Have fun with that. I’m out.”


End file.
